


The Beauty Cache

by Laimelde



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen, Mission Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-24
Updated: 2015-02-24
Packaged: 2018-03-14 22:07:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3427268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laimelde/pseuds/Laimelde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Who wouldn't want to go undercover at a day spa?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Beauty Cache

**Author's Note:**

  * For [catandmouse10](https://archiveofourown.org/users/catandmouse10/gifts).



> This was written for the MCU Ladies Fic Exchange. It's basically fun adventure-fluff. Hope you like it!

“You’re not planning to bring Colonel Talbot to this base too, are you?” Coulson asks. “Because I’ve just got my office set up how I like it and it’d be a pain to find another secret base.”

“Not this time,” says Maria, looking around said office. “I need to borrow a few of your agents.” She hands over the paperwork she had prepared, knowing Phil’s preference for everything to be properly documented.

He looks through the papers. “This isn’t SHIELD’s area of responsibility, and I don’t really have enough people to be lending them out right now.”

“I don’t trust the teams at SI yet,” Maria says, helping herself to the chair across from Coulson’s desk. “They’re mostly decent people but they’re not my people. Plus they’ve only ever worked in security. This will need some undercover.”

Coulson finishes reading the last page and looks up at her, but doesn’t say anything.

Maria sighs. “C’mon, Phil. It should be a milk run, but it’ll be far easier with company I can trust.”

Phil inclines his head in acknowledgement. “Fine. Who do you want?”

“May and Skye - and I believe Bobbi Morse is hanging around here these days?”

Coulson nods. “A female-only team?”

“Any reason not to?” she shoots back. “All-male teams have never been questioned. Are women not capable agents?”

Coulson waves a hand at her. “Don’t be like that Maria, you know I don’t consider one gender better than another. I was just curious to know if there was a reason.”

She sags a little - he’s right. She’s never known Phil to discount people based on gender, race, or age, and she knew he actively tried to be aware of his biases. In this line of work that still wasn’t common enough. “Check the location again.”

He does, and comprehension dawns. “Right. Well in that case, I don’t see why not. Bring them back in one piece though; I need them.”

“Won’t be a problem.” Maria stands to leave; Phil will get onto the paperwork right away, so she probably has just enough time to grab some food before everyone will have their orders.

“Maria?”

“Yeah?”

“Take Simmons too.”

Maria pauses. “We won’t need her expertise on this.”

“No,” agrees Coulson, “but everyone’s a field agent these days, and like you said, it should be a milk run. Good opportunity for both her and Skye to get a bit more experience.”

Maria shrugs. “Sure. There’s a discount for groups of five or more anyway.”

Phil rolls his eyes, and she gives him a quick grin before going in search of lunch.

* * *

“Oh my god, we’re going to a day spa?” Skye squeals. “Best mission ever!”

Maria looks over at May, who is driving the unmarked SHIELD vehicle. She just rolls her eyes.

“Wait,” says Simmons. “Are we going undercover as staff, or as guests? Because I’ve never had a facial, let alone given one to someone else.”

“We’ll be guests,” Maria replies. “There wasn’t enough time to get anyone on the staff.”

“Oh this is gonna be great,” says Skye. Simmons just looks relieved.

“Settle down,” says Bobbi. “This is still an undercover mission.”

“Ooh, can I pick my name?” asks Skye. “I want to be… Helena. Or Charlotte. Do you think I could pass as a Charlotte?” she asks Simmons.

“Your IDs are already done,” Maria interrupts, handing three fake drivers licences to the back. “We’re all keeping our first names, only last names are changed. Your occupations are sanitised versions of what you do now, so Skye, you’re an IT consultant; Simmons, a research biologist. But honestly, there shouldn’t be any need to discuss your backgrounds. Our cover story is that we’re here for a pampered girls weekend, nothing more, nothing less. Got it?”

“Yes ma’am,” says Simmons.

“Skye Addison,” Skye reads from her new drivers licence. “Not bad.”

“Alright, here’s the details,” says Maria. “Five months ago, a warehouse full of Stark Industries weapons was raided and 300 crates were stolen.”

“What kind of weapons are we talking?” asks Bobbi.

“Small missiles and mid-range explosives.”

“Wait, I thought Stark Industries didn’t make weapons any more,” says Skye.

“They don’t,” agrees Maria. “But when Stark made that decision, they had been making weapons for decades and had plenty more already in production. Those didn’t just disappear overnight. The warehouse that got raided was supposed to be a secret US Army stash, but clearly it wasn’t secret enough.”

“Why is Stark Industries interested in the Army’s loss?” asks Bobbi.

“Stark has a thing about his weapons being in the wrong hands. His preferred method of dealing with these situations is to track down the weapons and blow them up. Obviously, this is bad for the company’s stock value and for Pepper’s stress levels, so we’re going to take care of this one before Stark hears about it.”

“How does this relate to the day spa?” asks May.

“Last week, the first lot of stolen crates turned up on the black market, and we tracked them back to here.”

“So the day spa is actually a weapons cache?” asks Bobbi.

“We think it’s just a distribution point, actually. The spa owner, Brett Silverstein, has dabbled in this sort of thing before, but he’s just a small-time dealer, not the mastermind behind the robbery. Which is why we’re going in. We need to confirm that there are weapons here, but more importantly we need to track down who the supplier is, and where the rest of the weapons are.”

“Seems straightforward,” says Bobbi.

“But we will get to take advantage of the, uh, facilities while we’re there, right?” asks Simmons.

* * *

“Welcome, welcome,” booms the man in the dark grey business suit. “Come in and let us give you a luxury weekend you will never forget!”

The reception area does indeed look luxurious, all decked out in off-white with gold highlights. The man is standing beside the reception desk, and actually looks slightly out of place amongst all the gold and pastel, though he obviously feels at home. “Welcome to Gentle Springs Rejuvenation Centre. I am the owner, Brett Silverstein. Are we celebrating anything in particular this weekend, or just a girls’ weekend away?” he asks.

Maria is about to say it’s the latter, but May jumps in first. “It’s Maria’s bachelorette celebration,” she says, smiling wickedly. “She and her fiance Steve are getting married in a fortnight.”

Agent May: world’s biggest troll.

“Well, congratulations, that’s wonderful! I will ensure there is a complimentary bottle of champagne provided for you at dinner, to celebrate the special occasion. Now, if you would like to sort out the details with my lovely receptionist here, I will fetch one of our hostesses to show you around.”

He disappears into an office at the back, and Maria hands her credit card to the woman at the reception desk. “Is he always so… loud?”

The woman hesitates, then smiles. “He does particularly enjoy greeting our guests.”

Maria looks up again; she can see a filing cabinet and the corner of a desk in Silverstein’s office, but nothing else. She listens as he makes a brief call, then hangs up and walks out to them again as the receptionist gives the credit card back.

“Thank you, that’s all in order,” she says. 

“Ah, and this is Vivian,” says Silverstein as another woman approaches them. “She’ll show you around and explain how your weekend package works. Vivian, this here is Maria, and it’s her bachelorette party, so treat her well!”

“Hello ladies,” says Vivian, as her boss retreats to his office. “And congratulations, Maria.” Maria tries to keep her smile polite and mutters her thanks. Vivian continues: “Well, let’s make this a weekend of luxury and pampering, shall we? If you’ll follow me, I’ll give you the tour. You can leave your luggage just here,” she says, indicating a shelf to the side, “and it will be moved to your rooms for you.”

They follow her through the facility, which is much bigger than it looked from the front. A whole hallway of doors lead to various massage rooms, and a wing off the south-eastern corner is dedicated to beauty treatments - waxing, manicures, pedicures, and facials. There are also lounge areas, an outdoor pool with a mermaid fountain at one end, and a sauna. And every inch is finished in the same off-white and gold colour scheme.

Vivian explains how the package Maria had booked gives them a choice of four treatments each. They can have any four treatments they like (but only one massage per day, for health reasons). The pool and sauna are available any time, and there is a complimentary yoga session held 7am every morning in the conference room, just across from the restaurant.

Meals in the restaurant are also covered by their weekend package, so they can head down there any time they were hungry and order anything from the menu. Only alcohol needs to be purchased separately.

“However,” says Vivian, turning from the restaurant entry to smile at Maria again, “Since you have such a special occasion to celebrate, Mr Silverstein has allowed for a complimentary bottle of champagne provided at dinner tonight.”

“I’m going to kill you,” Maria mutters to May as Vivian leads them up to the second floor.

May just gives her usual ambiguous smile.

“This is your apartment,” Vivian says. “There are 3 bedrooms, all twin share, so one of you will have a room to herself, and the others will be sharing. Your bags should be waiting in… yes, all here,” she says, having led them into the common area of the apartment. She hands the five keycards to Maria. “If there aren’t any questions, I’ll leave you ladies to settle in.”

Maria breathes a sigh of relief when she has gone. “I’m claiming a room for myself,” she says, grabbing her bags from the floor. “You guys can split the other two between you.”

“Ooh, Simmons, share a room with me!” says Skye, and the two younger girls grab their keycards and bags and rush into one of the bedrooms. 

“Guess you two are sharing the last one,” Maria says, throwing the last two keycards to May and Bobbi. “Dinner in half an hour.”

“Yes ma’am!” calls Bobbi teasingly, but Maria stops and throws a look at her. “Uh, I mean, sure, my bestie Maria! Let’s celebrate your impending nuptials!”

Maria sighs and heads for her room. This could be a very long weekend.

* * *

“Are you sure you don’t want to have a treatment this morning, ladies?” asks Vivian.

“No, we’re fine.” says Bobbi. “We normally work late, so a lazy morning sounds great. We’ve decided we’re just going to lounge around the pool for a while.”

“Well, come find me if you change your mind,” says the hostess. “Okay, you three, let’s go meet your massage therapists.”

“See you later!” says Skye as she, Simmons and May follow Vivian down the stairs. Skye and Simmons had decided on a relaxation massages, whilst May had opted for the remedial version. 

Maria and Bobbi had volunteered to check out the grounds. A staff member is tidying up the pool area when they arrived, so they stretch out on the sun lounges to wait.

“So, this fiance of yours. Is it the Steve I think it is?”

“He’s not my fiance.”

“Shhh, not so loud,” says Bobbi, looking around dramatically. “Wouldn’t want the owner to come and demand that bottle of bubbly back.”

Maria just rolls her eyes, mildly amused. 

After a minute, Bobbi yawns widely. “May - Melinda was up ridiculously early this morning,” she moans. They’d agreed to use first names only for the weekend, to avoid blowing their cover, but obviously old habits were hard to break. “Woke me up at six freaking thirty, and then I couldn’t get back to sleep. What is there to even do at that hour?”

“Complimentary yoga,” Maria replies.

Bobbi squints over at her. “Oh god, you went too, didn’t you?”

“I like it. And staying toned and flexible is always useful in our line of work.”

“You mean our line of work, and your ex-line of work.”

“I’m here now, aren’t I?” says Maria evenly. “Though, even if I wasn’t, I don’t see any point in letting myself go. The ‘overweight and unfit security guard’ stereotype doesn’t appeal to me. So 7am yoga it is.”

“I hate morning people,” Bobbi mutters. “Also, that puts a hole in my story for our hostess.”

Maria raises an eyebrow in question.

“I mean, I told her we were dozing because we were tired. Which doesn’t work so well if you were up at the crack of dawn for yoga.”

“I don’t think she was there.”

“Whatever, the pool guy’s been gone a few minutes now. Let’s go.”

The fence - set back from the pool itself - is six foot chain link but only has a simple padlock and chain to secure it, and Bobbi picks the padlock in just a few seconds. Maria locks it again after them - no point raising any suspicions. They spend fifteen minutes following the contour of the building around the property. 

The building sprawls but the only entrances are the obvious ones: the main entrance, the double doors of the loading dock leading directly into the kitchen storeroom, and the pool area. There are fire doors every so often, and a couple of fire escapes from the upper floor, but they all appeared to be alarmed, and the long grass outside each indicates they haven’t had any recent use.

From there they move out from the building. Maria’s research has indicated that Silverstein doesn’t just own the spa, but also the forty acres of scrubland around it, so they try to cover as much ground as they can, looking for anything out of place. Small shacks, a storage shed in the middle of nowhere, a pile of crates covered in a tarp; any of these things would have been of interest, but they don’t find any of them.

They do find a gravel road running through the scrubland, but it doesn’t seem to lead anywhere. It just winds through the bushland and then back out again in a giant u-shape.

After two hours of walking Maria calls it quits and they head back, sneaking in through the main entrance when the receptionist is distracted.

* * *

After lunch, May and Skye take a turn at looking for the weapons while Maria and Bobbi go for massages and Simmons decides to have her first facial. May tells Vivian that she has to get some work done remotely, while Skye says she’s taking a nap. If Vivian thinks there’s anything odd going on, she doesn’t show it. Maria wonders if the staff are used to guests who pay a small fortune to come to their facility and then choose not to take advantage of everything they’ve paid for.

Maria tries to relax and enjoy her massage, but it’s difficult knowing two of the team are sneaking through the facility and liable to get caught at any moment. She catches herself straining for heavy footsteps or raised voices in the hallway, but the gentle new age music from the stereo in the corner is all she can hear.

“You need to relax,” says the massage therapist, a tiny woman with powerful hands. “Deep breath in… and out. And again: in… and out.” Maria tries to follow obediently. The woman makes an approving noise. “Better. But your shoulders are especially tight. You should book in for a remedial massage tomorrow, so I can work out some of these knots for you.”

Maria promises to think about it, and means it. Back when she was deputy-director of an international agency, massages were regular - weekly massages were mandatory, and a second one each week was optional. SHIELD looked after its employees well - after all, SHIELD was a high-stress environment, and people who were constantly tense and stressed burned out faster, and that was not ideal. Massages were good for the body, and just as importantly, provided a kind of meditative quiet time to people who were almost always on the go.

She takes a deep breath and tries again to relax. May is one of their most accomplished agents. Skye - though new - has already been tested through awful circumstances in her short time with SHIELD, and has May as her S.O. They’ll be fine.

She takes another deep breath, and focuses on clearing her mind.

* * *

“So, we checked as many backrooms as we could,” says Skye. “There’s a laundry, kitchen with a walk-in fridge and pantry, staff break room, massage supplies room, and a beauty supplies room. Plus linen and cleaning cupboards and the office area. I had no idea there were so many employee-only areas in a place like this.”

Maria resists the urge to roll her eyes, though she notices Bobbi doesn’t bother to do the same. May is sitting impassively on the lounge across from them, apparently content to let Skye give a rambling version of their report.

The five women are sitting in the common area of their apartment, comparing notes from their first day. 

“And you did actually find the weapons?” Maria asks.

“Oh, yes. In the pool and garden supplies shed,” Skye reports.

“Man, we went right past there,” says Bobbi. “We could have checked there first.”

Maria frowns. “That shed is pretty small, isn’t it?”

“There were only three crates in there,” says May. “But they were Stark Industries crates with Stark’s missiles inside.”

“Okay,” says Maria. “They must be trickling it through from the supplier, a bit at a time.”

“The pool shed though,” says Skye. “That means the staff are involved, doesn’t it?” Her voice drops to a whisper as she speaks, as though afraid a member of the staff might walk in and overhear at any moment.

“You don't need to worry,” Maria tells her. “I swept the room for bugs last night, and it's clean. As long as you aren't shouting, they won't hear us.”

Skye looks relieved.

“But you're right, it does mean the staff are involved,” agrees Bobbi. “At least the pool staff, anyway. There’s no way several crates of weapons could turn up in there without them noticing.”

* * *

Confirming that the weapons were here was the routine part. What they really needed was the intel on who the supplier was. Who was the shadowy figure who had arranged the theft in the first place, then sat on all these weapons for months and was now selling them off?

There was almost always a paper trail, so as the others headed back to their rooms after dinner, Maria made her way to reception and literally bumped into the owner. His briefcase fell open as it hit the ground and papers went flying.

“Oh! Mr Silverstein, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t even looking.”

“No problem,” he mutters, but he looks ruffled, trying to pick up the papers quickly. Maria helps him, still apologising, until everything is back in the case.

Then she continues to the reception desk and pretends her whole purpose for being there was to ask about extra towels for their rooms. Brett Silverstein leaves without a backwards glance.

“Did you get it?” asks Bobbi when she enters.

“Easy as pie,” she replies, holding up the man’s keycard. “Ready, Skye?”

“You bet.”

* * *

Passing reception and getting into the office is as easy as Maria hoped. May, Simmons and Bobbi have the job of distracting the receptionist, who is the only staff member left in the office area after dinner on a Saturday. And given she is in her last hour of work for the day, it’s no trouble for the trio to pull her into a casual conversation.

Maria and Skye slip into Silverstein’s office. They worked out earlier that the night shift managers and staff shared a different office, and only Silverstein used this one. It was also locked whenever he wasn’t around.

Maria starts with the filing cabinet against the back wall, while Skye boots the computer from a flash drive to bypass the Windows password. 

“Like candy from a baby,” she murmurs to herself. 

Maria glances over. “Do you always talk aloud to yourself on missions?” she asks softly.

“No. Well, maybe. Mostly. I’m working on it, I swear,” Skye says, sending a helpless look. “Still getting used to doing this stuff with an audience, and outside the comfort of my van.”

They continue in silence for a few minutes. The filing cabinet is full, but all the documents look legit. Invoices for towels, food supplies, various creams and oils, staff wages, toilet paper…

“So that story May made up, about you and your fiance Steve…” Skye starts. Maria sends her a glare, but Skye doesn’t look up from the computer. “Is it all made up? Or is Steve a real guy? Fiance, or boyfriend, or whatever.”

“This isn’t the time for idle chitchat,” Maria says, and if Skye missed the glare she certainly couldn’t miss Maria’s tone. They fall silent for another minute.

“Yessss,” hisses Skye under her breath. “Come to mama.”

Maria works her way around the desk to look over her shoulder. “What is it?”

“Jackpot. His files aren’t even encrypted. Warehouse address, lists of inventory - holy crap, it looks like there’s tons of it.”

“Three hundred crates were taken,” Maria reminds her.

“Right, yeah,” Skye mutters. “I’ll copy this stuff off.”

Maria notices a calendar on the wall. The next day is circled, with ‘Cornell 3:30pm x10’ scribbled in. Only Cornell has been crossed out and another word scrawled half on top of it.

Cornell is the man they caught with the first batch of weapons. The only intel he’d known was that they were sold through Silverstein, and the exchange was done on the grounds of the day spa.

Maria takes out her Starkphone to get a photo of the calendar, then cringes when the flash goes off. She never turns the flash on, ever… but sometimes it resets to auto-mode and she hadn’t checked it.

There’s raised voices outside, and Maria’s Starkphone vibrates. 

_Night manager thinks he saw a light in there. Get out._

May, quick as ever.

Maria goes straight for the window. “Skye, shut it down. We’re going now.”

Skye had looked up at the noise outside but now glanced desperately back at the computer. “But it hasn’t-”

“Now.”

Skye immediately reaches for the power button, and Maria is relieved. They can’t afford to blow their covers just yet, so they need to get away clean. She gets the window open and checks the distance. Five foot drop, or thereabouts. Good.

Skye arrives, flash drive gripped tightly in her hand. Maria sends her out first, dropping to the ground with a soft thud. She’s pleased to see Skye immediately move for the nearest cover. Then she climbs out onto the window sill, pulling the curtain across and then balancing precariously to close the window, as quietly but quickly as she can. 

Finally, she drops to the ground. 

Looking up from her crouched position, she sees light enter the office as the door is opened. She runs, still hunched over, and joins Skye behind a bush a few feet along the wall.

They stay, silent, for a long minute until the office goes dark again. Skye opens her mouth to speak; Maria gives a sharp look and shake of the head, and she closes her mouth again.

They wait for several more minutes before Maria deems it safe to move. She texts May first. _Pool entrance._

 _Got you covered_ , comes the response.

They slowly make their way around the building, not taking any risks. Simmons and Bobbi are in the pool when they arrive, laughing and chatting with two other girls who appear to have been drinking. May quietly lets them in the gate and they moved to the darkest corner of the pool area.

Maria leans over to May. “Do I thank you for our ample getaway time?”

May shrugs. “Receptionist didn’t see the flash, and we all took her side. He had to convince her it was worth getting the spare keycard from the safe and risking Silverstein’s wrath for going into his office.”

After a short while, Skye shouts out a joke in response to something one of the drunk girls has said, and both the girls shriek and turn around in unison.

“Ohmygod,” says one. “I didn’t even know you guys were there!”

“How did you not know they were there?” asks Simmons, giggling like these two are so silly. And sure, this isn’t exactly a high-pressure situation, but she’s selling it without effort, and that’s always good.

“I knew one of them was,” says the other girl, “but I didn’t realise there was three!”

“Man you guys are quiet,” the first girl drawls.

“Or maybe you’re just loud,” says Skye.

“Or maybe we’re just drunk,” says the second girl.

They look at each other and burst out laughing. They are definitely drunk.

Maria decides that’s enough cover. “Well, I think I’ll get an early night, ladies. Enjoy yourselves.”

“I’ll come too,” says May, and they make their way upstairs.

* * *

An hour later everyone is back and Simmons and Bobbi have showered and joined them in the common room. 

“How are you enjoying the spa, ladies?” asks Coulson, grinning at them through Skye’s laptop. “Nice and relaxed?”

“We have the name and the address of the warehouse,” Maria tells him. “Skye will send the data through.”

“Already done,” says Skye, from her position directly in front of the laptop. “It’s incomplete, but there’s enough to take them down.”

“So what’s the plan? Bail out and of here and go after the head honcho?” asks Bobbi.

Maria shakes her head. “Can’t. Because I also found this.” She motions to Skye, who sends the photo to Coulson and then brings it up fullscreen for the team. “There’s another sale going down here tomorrow. I can’t make out the name, but we’ll have to stay and stop the sale.”

May shifts her stance, which is enough from her to get Maria’s attention. “If we stop tomorrow’s sale, the supplier will have enough notice to at least escape the warehouse, and probably take a lot of the inventory too. Remember, we still don’t know who the supplier is.”

“You didn’t get any names?” asks Coulson, and Skye switches the screen back to the video feed.

“Only one - David Markland. He’s listed as the warehouse supervisor.”

“We need to stay here and stop tomorrow’s sale, so I’ll need you to send a team to the supplier’s warehouse,” Maria tells Coulson. “If both teams move at the same time, neither the supplier nor Silverstein will be forewarned.”

Coulson shakes his head. “All good in theory, but you know I’m light on personnel. Even if I had a proper strike team, I’d have them working full time on SHIELD business. Which this is not.” He pauses for a moment, suddenly thoughtful. “However, I can think of another option. These weapons were stolen from the US Army, right?”

Maria frowns. “Colonel Talbot isn’t going to work with us on this, Phil.”

Coulson just grins at her. “Not with me, or SHIELD, no. But the Army has a vested interest in this situation, and if I send the right liaison, I think they could be amenable.”

Maria sighs. “You know what, I don’t want to know. Just sort something out and keep me informed.”

Coulson nods. “I’ll let you know.”

* * *

The next morning, Maria and May go to the complimentary yoga session again, and Skye tags along as well. Then they head to breakfast, walking past the reception area where a flustered Brett Silverstein is searching desperately for his keycard. 

Maria received a message from Coulson early in the morning, advising that a team was being organised and the warehouse raid would proceed that afternoon. Unfortunately the last-minute nature of the arrangements meant that timing would be tight - he would have to let them know later what time the raid would actually happen.

So the five women spend the morning enjoying the facilities. Simmons and Maria both decide on a second massage, and Bobbi decides she’d like a facial. Skye decides on a mani/pedi, and May books in for a footbath and foot massage. Vivian seems pleased that all five of them have chosen something.

Maria opts for the remedial massage this time, and ends up with the same massage therapist as the previous day. The tiny woman grins at her, then goes to work and soon Maria’s body is aching in the best possible way. She knows she’ll be sore for a few days, but she also knows the long term benefits will be worth it.

Lunch comes and goes in a relaxed manner, but after that the mood begins to change. Coulson hasn’t made contact again, and the more time that passes, the more likely it is that they won’t get much notice.

Simmons paces the room, stressed about the last treatment session of the weekend. She doesn’t want to be halfway through something when the call comes. When Vivian knocks on their door to see what they are interested in doing for the afternoon, May insists they both go and have a mani/pedi; she quietly mentions to Simmons that if the treatment is interrupted they’ll only potentially ruin a few nails, and that isn’t a big deal.

Skye and Bobbi initially intend to wait with Maria, but eventually Bobbi is frustrated by the delay and the lack of news, and takes Skye down to the pool just for something to do.

Maria stays alone in their apartment. Long periods of anticipation were something she’d grown used to as deputy director of SHIELD, so she dealt with it with practiced patience. She goes over the plan and everyone’s roles - all of which are ridiculously simple in this instance - and then does some yoga to keep her mind and body occupied.

It’s only ten minutes to the sale time when Coulson finally gives the word. All the women are back by then, simultaneously relieved and frustrated that the call hadn’t come while they were occupied. 

Coulson’s word is that the Army has sent a strike team, and the raid will begin in fifteen minutes. This is five minutes after the meet is due to start. Not a problem, since five minutes shouldn’t be long enough for anyone at the day spa to raise the alarm with the supplier.

They go to work. Simmons and Skye head into their room to get their gear, while Maria takes Bobbi and May and heads to the meet site. The first buyer, Cornell, had told them exactly where in the scrubland the sale had taken place, and they arrive moments before the new buyer.

“Who are you?” the man demands when he sees Maria.

“Not important,” she tells him. “What you should be asking, is who are they.”

The man turns in time to see Bobbi and May attack his three muscled associates. Maria uses his moment of distraction to close the distance, quickly disarming him and using a sharp elbow to the head to knock him out. When she looks again, Bobbi and May have their three down and May is already pulling out the zip ties.

A few minutes later, the four men are gagged and bound and hidden behind some nearby scrub when the first of Silverstein’s men arrive. He is carrying a crate of weapons, which makes it simple for May to take him down. He joins the other men tied and gagged, and Maria stands watch while May and Bobbi take down another four, one by one.

Eventually, several long, quiet minutes pass without any more men coming down the path with crates.

“This is more crates than we found in the pool shed,” says May. “There must be another stash somewhere.”

“Silverstein’s not here,” comments Bobbi. “Surely he’d be conducting the meet himself?”

Maria’s phone vibrates. “Hill.”

“Raid went fine,” says Coulson. “But it turns out there was no supplier. Or rather, there was no distributor.”

“Silverstein is behind it all,” says Maria, her eyes meeting Bobbi’s as she makes the connection. 

“And you have Silverstein, right?” asks Coulson.

“We will soon,” she promises, and hangs up.

May stands from where she had been interrogating one of the spa staff. “These men were supposed to return for a second crate each. Silverstein must have figured out something was up when none of them returned.”

Bobbi looks stricken. “Skye and Simmons!”

“Bobbi, stay here, watch these guys. May, let’s go.”

Bobbi looks like she wants to argue, and Maria is glad that she doesn’t. No doubt she wants to come with them, but someone has to watch the men they’ve taken prisoner, and in a suddenly urgent situation Maria's more comfortable with May at her back.

They take off for the building at a run.

They don’t bother with subtlety, running straight into the main entrance and checking Silverstein’s office. It stands open, nobody in sight, but the curtain moves gently in the breeze.

Maria rounds on the receptionist. “What happened? Where did they go?”

The woman is clearly flustered. “Uh, up to the rooms!” She points, and Maria is on May’s heels as they run up the stairs.

The door to their apartment is open. May slows as they approach and points - the frame around the doorjamb is broken. Maria fears the girls will be injured, or dead, or - possibly worst - missing. They press against the wall of the hallway to listen. All quiet. 

May swings into the room, weapon at the ready, and Maria follows in one smooth move.

They come face to face with Skye, who holds an extension cord, and Simmons, holding a lamp.

Both girls sag a short moment later. “Thank god,” says Simmons.

“Ditto,” says Skye.

“Where is he?” Maria asks, and raises an eyebrow when Skye points to the bedroom she and Simmons had shared. Maria walks over and is greeted with the sight of two men slumped in the space between the beds, and a third sitting on one the beds: Brett Silverstein himself, who is awake, tied up and gagged, and very, very unhappy.

“Is that - is that a fluffy belt?”

“Oh, that’s from my dressing gown,” says Simmons. “Needed some rope in a hurry.”

“And we used a washcloth as a gag,” adds Skye. “A clean one. Lucky for him housekeeping gave us new towels today.”

* * *

Coulson sends another Army team to deal with the clean up. Maria is surprised to see a familiar face stepping out of the convoy.

“Maria,” says Steve, smiling.

“Steve,” she replies, fighting to stay neutral. So that’s who Coulson sent as the liaison to the army. She can’t decide whether to be pleased or annoyed. Sure, she’s happy to see him, but both Steve and Phil know she doesn’t like her private life and work to interact.

Thankfully, Steve does seem to remember this. He introduces Major Greyson as the head of the unit, and steps back to let Maria and the major talk. The major seems like a sensible man, who listens to her report and takes her seriously, and Maria thanks her lucky stars that it’s not another Colonel Talbot. He sends men to collect the buyer and the spa staff still under Bobbi’s watch, and a few more up to where May is still watching Silverstein and the other two men. 

The spa is being closed down, for now at least. Greyson’s men will be taking over the site and investigating everything - and of course, reclaiming their inventory, once they find out where the rest of the on-site weapons are stored.

Maria’s just glad that Simmons and Skye succeeded before Silverstein found them, and she hands over a memory drive with a complete copy of the evidence to Greyson. If he’s surprised at her co-operation, he doesn’t say anything.

Eventually everything seems to be sorted. Greyson’s men have evicted the remaining guests and have started interviewing the staff to work out who exactly was involved. Maria - to her surprise - likes the major and feels confident she can leave the matter in his hands. She sees her own team standing around their minivan and heads over to them.

“Everything good to go?”

Bobbi snorts, and May shakes her head just a little. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

She follows their looks to where Steve waits, leaning against a civilian - or at least, unmarked - vehicle.

“I hadn’t forgotten,” she says, rolling her eyes. “I’ll let him know we’re done here and then we’ll be on our way.”

“Nuh-uh,” says Bobbi. “May can drive us. You’re going with him.”

May holds up the keys, letting them dangle from her finger, and Maria knows she’s beaten. She sighs.

“Fine, alright. In that case, I’d like to say thank you, for your help this weekend. I’m no longer a SHIELD agent, nor superior to any of you, so I can’t promote anyone or give you time off, or whatever. But I’m grateful, and I’ll put in a good word with Coulson for you.” She winks at Simmons and Skye, and smiles gratefully at May and Bobbi.

“Yeah yeah,” says Bobbi. “We’re awesome, we know, and you’re not so shabby yourself. Don’t be a stranger and all that. Now go, don’t keep Steve waiting.”

“Wait, that’s Steve? Maria’s Steve? But isn’t that…?” 

Maria catches a glimpse of Simmons elbowing Skye as she turns away, certain she doesn’t need to hear the rest. She can’t help feeling smug though, so when Steve leans in for a quick kiss on the cheek, she turns to meet him and kisses him properly.

He catches on fast, and smiles with amusement when they finally part. 

“Well. I hoped you would be pleased to see me, but I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Shut up,” she replies, aware she is blushing but also grinning. She pushes him away and he heads for the driver’s side, while she climbs into the passenger seat, noting her bags already in the back.

“That wouldn’t have had anything to do with the entirely female audience in the minivan, would it?” he asks.

Maria just smiles. “Let’s go home.”


End file.
